


This Is Real Life

by MakeAStory



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Actor Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Metion Rape, Nightmares, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Natasha, Vet Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:05:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9949343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeAStory/pseuds/MakeAStory
Summary: Natasha is sick of Steve. Is sick of his behavior, of his need of attention, of him runing away from people. But she's sick of Bucky too. Of him shielding his feelings, of him trying to push everyone around him, of him not getting better. That's why she thinks they could need each other's help.





	1. Chapter 1

"It's okay guys! Good job" the director's voice stopped the activity "Go grab your lunch. I want you all here by four" Steve checked his wrist watch. Half past one. Well, that was okay; it gave him three hours and a half to pretend to eat his disgusting healthy food and steal something from the common dining room.

"Fucking finally man! I was about to combust" Sam whined tearing off his hat "I swear to you blondie, I'm this close to throw my shitty script to the director's face and quit this" he said putting his index and thumb nearly touching. Steve snickered while fighting with his tunic. "It's not that bad" he said "At least you don't have to put on all this costume".

Sam gave him an unimpressed look "Really man? You're all happy putting your prince's clothes on, they match your ego" he threw him a hoodie. Steve looked at it with a disgusted face, helding the fabric between two fingers, like it would gave him some kind of disease. "What? Are you gonna look at it with that shitty expression for long?" Sam asked by the door "Don't be such a brat. Put the dam hoodie and move, I'm hungry" Steve threw that _thing_ on and repressed a mocking shudder. "Why is my hoodie this colorfull? It's giving me a headache" he whined pitifully "I don't even like bright colors". Sam laughed while Steve followed him to somewhere to eat and nudged him with the shoulder "You know, I promised you not to tell your little secret to anybody; but I didn't say nothing 'bout teasing".

Steve stopped his way and groaned loudly, ignoring the annoyed look his coworkers gave him for blocking the hall "I knew I shouldn't have told you nothing!" he yelled, but hurried after Sam, who was bussy laughing. Steve supressed a lopsided smile and glared at his friend, who chose to ignore him. He sighed in defeat and said nothing, knowing well that Sam was only messing with him. If any other person would tell him a that joke he would probably punch their face right then and there; but that was Sam. They had been friends for a long time now, and Steve knew he was nearly the only person who could trust on. Besides, he was on the team of People Steve Tolerates (it was an incredibly small team); and he was on the group of People Who Tolerates Steve (it was even an smaller group).

That was okay.

Steve's intentions of stealing food from the dining room where broken by Sam, who passed the room and picked a smaller and more intimate one. They sat together in a desk, both slumping in their seats and opening their food-cases, sighing in unison at their ecually healthy and disgusting food. "I can't believe they make us eat this" Steve whined like a kid "It's bland, and weird, and... Repugnant"

"Say that again" Sam agreed, and both of them started picking at their food, without actually eating it. The door opened again, revealling a tall, slim, redhead woman. "Hey Nat" Steve couldn't bring himself to greet his friend, still disheartened because of his food. "What's up with your faces?" Natasha asked greeting Sam with a tap on the shoulder. She opened her case, and the smell of red meat and potatos filled the room. Steve cried out and banged his head on the table "I'm done" his voice was muffled by the wood "I've been eating this shit for three months know. I'm gonna quit the diet. I'm gonna eat a burger the size of my head tonight. With fries. And nuggets. And a pizza slice".

"You know you're not gonna do that" she said simpathetically. Steve sighed and nodded; he wouldn't. He couldn't do that to his body. They ate while chatting about the film when the man on the tv started talking about Steve. " _We've recently known that Sharon Carter has broken up with Steve Rogers, well known Hollywood actor. Sources close to the pair had revealled that Sharon had enough of Rogers, famous for his plenty crushes and flirting with his castmates and pretty models. Many of his ex-girlfriends had said that Steve was not 'boyfriend material', that he was-"_

Steve looked at Natasha, who had the remote in her hand and had turned off the tv. He couldn't see Sam, but he knew he was giving him the _What The Fuck Man?_ look. He let his body fell against the back of the seat and rubbed his face with a hand. "What the fuck, man?" see? He was right. "Yeah, what the fuck, Steve?" Nat asked "Sharon broke up with you? When were you gonna tell us?"

"She didn't; I did" Steve said slowly. Sam gave him a confused look and pointed the tv "Two days ago, I don't know how they know it or who had told them all that crap. I didn't knew how to tell you; you love her".

"Of course we love her!" Sam exclaimed "She's been the best girl you've had ultimately, what did you want?" Nat nodded in agreement "What happened to you? You were good!"

Steve shrugged with a shoulder; he didn't know what to tell them 'cause he didn't know the reason either. "Don't know... I wasn't feeling it". Nat's mouth hanged open. "Feeling it? You weren't _feeling it_?" Sam sounded personally ofended "Would you elaborate, please?" he asked in a false calm tone. Steve shrugged again (he seemed to do that a lot lately). Sam glared him. "Steve, 'I wasn't feeling it? it's not a reason for a 9 month relationship"

"I don't really know!" Steve whined defensive "I didn't feel like being with her anymore, simple as it".

"Simple?!" Nat hit the desk with her hand "9 monts Steve! The longest relation you have in years and you suddenly dump her? Just because?" Natasha looked personally ofended by Steve. He understood her. Natasha has known Sharon for longer than him, and even if they weren't bests friends, Nat considered her a good friend. "Fuck Steve! I told you not to fool her, I personally asked you not to! And you couldn't keep your dick in your pants. For fucks sake!" She stood abruptly and glared him. He could feel his ears growing hot.

"I didn't fool her. I've been 9 months with her, that's not fooling someone" he said defensive. Sam sighed, looking like a disappointed father "What happened Steve? Let's be clear, you've been a asshole so many times, but it seemed different with Sharon" Steve didn't even protest. "Shes's a good person, one of the bests I know" he said "And she didn't deserve living a lie. I don't love her".

"God" Nat sighed "You know what happens now, no Sam?" she asked the man "Now he's gonna start going to a hundred of parties, get wasted almost every weekend, chase bed after bed and then cry until someone cleans his mess" she pointed between them "And it's gonna be us, like always!" she turned and looked at him. Steve's breath caught up in his throat. Her eyes shone brightly with anger (Nat never cried). "You're doing it again. You push all the good people away from you. The only real people you hang out with is us! You know what? I can't deal with this right now. I've got my own problems. See you later" Nat, the usually collected and calm Nat, slamed the door when storming out of the room.

Steve gaped at the door, not believing what had just happened. "What was that?" he asked Sam "It's not the first time I'm single, what the...?" he looked at his friend for help, but the only thing he got was a tired look and a head shake. "You can really blame her, Rogers? She looks out for you, you know it. Wait until she cools down, she'll come around" They stood in silence for a little bit. "Steve, sorry man, but I've gotta ask. This break up, this whole 'I don't love her' has something to do with... You know" he finished his sentence in a murmur, like he was afraid of someone under the table could hear them.

"With me liking guys?" Steve finished for him. He shook his head "No Sam, it has nothing to do with it. I've liked boys too since I was a teenager. Nobody knows 'cause my first manager told me to keep it in secret, and then I didn't find the moment to say it. But it's not new" he rubbed his face "It's like... I don't know. I woke up this day and realise Sharon it's not the person I wanna be with. Something is missing. I don't know what it is, but it wasn't there".

"For someone who never falls in love, you sound pretty sure of how does it feel" Sam comented with a sigh. "I've seen the people around me fall in love plenty of time. I've seen the way Maria and you, Tony and Pepper are with each other. We weren't like that".

"She loves you, you know that too, right?" Steve didn't say anything. He knew it; he knew it for good. Sharon had been the best partner he had had since he was famous. The guilt ate him alive.

* * *

* * *

"You know? You should be more gratefull, you little shit" he said "You should be here, thanking me that I have give you a roof, a bed, food... You should be killing rats for me" he stood up from besides the sofa and heard his knee crack "And instead, you've destroyed my cushion" he took the cotton and looked at the cat, who looked back with a bored expression and resumed his paw-licking activity. Bucky sighed in defeat and threw the cotton.

It was a mistery why he kept that evil thing in his house. He had appeared one day on his sill protecting himself from the rain. Something in Bucky's heart had pushed him to take the small animal in his hands and save him from the wild homless life; he even had an smaller leg! How could someone threw that little ball of fluff out? Saving the cat had made him feel a little more himself, but that odl Bucky-self died when the cat threw his mask away. He was the devil, a grumpy young cat who enjoyed giving him a hard time (life). Clint said they were soulmates.

Winter (yeah, Bucky had named him _Winter Soldier_ , Clint would never let it down; but, who cared? He was so fucking proud of the name) sat on his lap when he settled himself in the couch. He refused to pet the grouchy animal, but while letting his mind busy itself with the inmensity of the universe, his right hand fell and pet the little grey head. He would never admit it out loud, but even with his behaviour, he loved his Soldier. They were a little army themselves.

He jolted when his phone started biping. Clint's message lighted up the screen.

> **Hawkeye** : _Hey Soldat, you busy?_

He replied with a short _Petting Winter_ and waited with the phone in the hand. He know Clint too well, he would answer in no time.

> **Hawkeye** : _Stop that, it's lame; you're lame. It's friday night. Come out with Nat and I; get laid, get wasted, whatever you want. But come._

He snorted. Lame? Him? He wasn't lame. He was a veteran, he was allowed to stay at home petting his cat on a friday night. Get laid? What the fuck? He didn't need to get laid. He frowned strongly and started typing furiously when another message came.

> **Natty** : _Ignore Clint, he's lame. We're at Hydra. I'll ask you a beer, okay?_

He sighed in defeat and erased Clint's message. There was no way he could say no to Nat. Even if she could be the most scary and cold person in the whole world, for him, she was the sweetest person, the only who understood him. Besides Winter. He could always count with his grumpy personality.

With a huge effort, he stood up apologizing to the cat and migratted to his room, where he stood looking through his wardrobe with a hopless expression. He didn't like going out in public for various reasons, but his wardrobe was one of them. 

The problem was he didn't like doing laundry because the washing machine was incredibly loud and succeded to give him a panic attack whenever it went on (the first time he listened it back in his parents house, he went on full soldier mode, scaring the shit out of his family); so he always wait until there was real need of using it. 

By now every cloth he was ever confortable with was in the laundry basket, waiting for him to put up with his pathetic excuse of life, and the only clothing he had left were a few things from before the war. Bright, colorfull, happy clothing with short sleeves (or no sleeves). The happy mood of the cloth didn't match his personality anymore, so he wasn't confortable with them.

Plus, he was missing an arm.

He went trough a pile of t-shirts with cocky messages on their front (what the hell happened with his old self?) until his hand touched a too thick blue hoodie with no message (if you didn't count a smily face like a message). He looked at the garment for a couple of minutes before shrugging and putting it on. 

Hydra wasn't far from his flat. With his right hand stucked inside the pocket and his left side hided by the wall, he quickly made his way, willing to arrive there. He knew it was a childish behaviour, but he didn't feel safe on open spaces. In closed ones either. His life was a mess, he thought sadly.

"Hey Buck! Here!" Clint's voice was audible above the place's noise, making Bucky flinch lightly and curse himself. He hurried to the table dodging people and waiters. It was a calm bar in Brooklyn, with wooden tables and tall chairs, soft music and quiet murmur of people. It was noce, nothing like the horrendous and noisy places where young people went to have fun. He felt guilty for making his friends to ditch those bars in order to hang out with him, but he couldn't bring himself to go there. To many posible threats.

"Hey guys" he took a sip of his beer, suddenly realising how dry his mouth was, and sat down on a chair, leaving his left side facing the wall. Always. "How ou've been? It's been a while"

"Cool man, I've been packing the whole week. It's giving me a headache. You know how moving is" Clint whined "Is that a smily face? It's a smily face. What's now? You're making an irony, you kno that?" Bucky made a face to his friend. Why couldn't he shut up sometimes?

"Could been better" Nat ignored him and Clint made a pouty face, clearly expecting his joke would have had a better audience "The work is stressing me" she made a little sad face where she scrunched her nose and Bucky died at the adorableness. He sometimes thought that he and Clint were the only human beings who found Natasha endearing. "How have you been?"

Bucky knew that question enclosed a deep meaning, he knew they wanted to know how was he putting with his new life; but he choose to answer with a joke. It's not like he was doing much better "Winter destroyed a cusion" he said pouting, making both his friends laugh. "Man, that cat's gonna be the death of you" Bucky opted to shut his mouth and stopped himself of telling them he would happily die because of a cat. Nobody needed his depressing thoughts.

They stood there for two hours and forty two minutes (Bucky would love to say he didn't count the time he passed out his flat, but it would be a big lie), drinking and chatting calmly, when Nat's phone lighted. She looked at the screen and made and incredibly pitifull sound for someone like Natasha. Clint's interest inmediatly perked up.

"What's going on? Why are you making _that_ face?" he asked poiting an accuser finger at her. He tried to make it sound like a joke, but Bucky knew him better than that. He was so close to ask who had hurt Natasha. God, he was a goner.

She sighed that particular sigh of her, the one which ment that something was particularly bodering her in a major way. "It's nothing really. I shoulnd't be telling you" she said, but continued anyway. "Do you remember Steve?" he asked Clint; Bucky didn't know Nat's friends, besides Clint. He wasn't antisocial, like his friends said; he had a very busy life, thank you very much.

"Like Steve Rogers? How could I not remember him? His face is pretty much everywhere. And his kind of a dick" he said, the last part clearly to Bucky. He shrugged, why would matter to him that a guy who didn't know was a dick?

"He's not that bad" she didn't put much of effort defending her friend, so Bucky assumed it was true. "This has something to do with Sharon Carter breaking up with her?" Clint asked out of blue. "What?" he asked when his friends looked at him surprised "I've got plenty free time now" he shrugged. Nat nodded sceptically, knowing well that Clint loved gossip to much for his own good.

"He did" she said paying no atention to Clint's squeal. "Apparently he 'wasn't feeling it'. So he left her. Can you believe it? He broke up with her!"

Bucky looked unsure "What's the problem?" he asked. He didn't understand the fuss. "I mean, couples break up constantly. If he wasn't feeling like it, he had to break up". Nat looked at him gaping. She seemed personally ofended by that.

"Sorry, I forgot you were like Rogers, always running away of relationship" he didn't say anything. "Anyway, now his a mess. Again. It's the second time I've got to cover up a scandal this week. The police caught him driving drunk with two people in the car" she sighed and covered her face with her hands. "Why I'm even doing this? I'm not his manager!"

"'Cause you're a great person and an excellent friend" Clint said, and Bucky managed succesfully not to gag; he was nice as that. Nat smiled sweetely. "The problem is" she said "He doesn't have many friends, like, _real_ friends. The only ones are Sam Wilson and I" well, two friends, Bucky thought. Much like him. What's the problem? "He needs people to put him on the Earth. He would need someone to talk to, someone new who would understand him, not judge... Someone who would understand what being alone means..."

Bucky wasn't looking at them anymore; he was busy finishing his alcohol free beer. He didn't understand why people enjoyed drinking. Well, he did, he used to enjoy it, but, anyway. He wasn't looking at them, so he was completely missing the elocuent looks Natasha was sending him. In his defence, why should he be interested in some actor's life? He was barelly interested in his own life.

That's why he took a couple of minutes to register the lack of conversation.

"What?" he looked up to see both his friends looking at him, Clint with an over excited smile and Nat with an extremely bored expression. "What?" he asked again, in case his friends didn't listen to him the first time.

"You weren't listening" it wasn't a question per se, but he felt the need to shake his head like as answer. Natasha sighed (again) and repeated "I said, it would be good to you to meet Steve. For both of you".

"Why? Why should I meet him? I'm good like this" he really was. 

"For God's sake man" Clint said "You're barelly out of your apartment, you only keep in touch with us and you're like a grumpy old man. You're twenty eight! You should be doing crazy things with new people, no hiding in the closet!" the words went directly to Bucky's gut, making it twist. 

"You're mean" he said like a small child, and Clint grunted exasperated. Nat threw him a look. "You know we're only concerned about you James" she said softly "You haven't even called your mother this week, she was so worried". Why did his mother talk with Natasha he had no idea. "It could be good for you too to meet someone with a diferent life". When did they start talking about him?

"I don't need a babysitter, thank you. I'm pretty capable of living with me". He looked at Clint bitterly, even if he knew the man only wanted the best for him. "If I bother you that much" he said "Maybe you should stop calling me". Clint's face flamed red, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but Nat's hand over his made him think better. Bucky wished he didn't. He was much more confortable with violence that with everything else.

"You don't mean that Barnes" he said plainly. No, of course he didn't; but it wasn't the time to back out. He would call him in the morning.

"I'm going home" was the only thing he said before storming out of the bar. Great. Now his friends were angry at him and he had to do the walk home alone. He took two breaths and practically raced home, trying not to think of every threat.

At home, Winter eyed him from his spot in the sofa, once Bucky changed into his pijama and took a seat in his usual spot. "Don't look at me like that, you traitor" he reprimanded. The animal turned around and hid. Somewhere.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Growing up in a big family was fun. They used to get up once in a month, and Bucky remembered him and his sister Becca playing with their cousins while their parents set up the barbeque and chatted about their adult things. Bucky remembered his little cousin Penny with special love, how she stucked with him until the end, telling her parents that Bucky was her brother even if they had diferent parents. Bucky may have taken advance of the situation more times that not. But he loved Penny; he really did.

Being a vet who had a terrible fear of loud sounds, couldn't watch war films without breaking into tears (yes, he was such an adult, he knew) and didn't feel secure going outside, a big family was incredibly overhelming. He had to call his parents nearly everyday, call his grandparents once a week (preferibly on Sunday mornings), and the rest of his family once in a month. And on birthdays, let's not forget the birthdays (the worst was his; he had to talk to his whole family. Last year he finished with a panic attack).

Extrangely, talking to Penny was plesurably calm and nice. His sweet sweet Penny, who had cried beside his hospital bed asking his mum if he was gonna be okay.

"College is frustrating Bucky, you should be thankful for skiping it" he hold the phone tighter and hummed, saving the _I would rather had gone to college than to war_ for him. "Although, you should try it and study history. You loved it back un high school".

"Lots of people Penny" he said ashamed "I still panick sometimes. I'm working on it" he added, embarrased because he couldn't handle being in the same room with to many people. "But I could try it when I get better" he knew it was an empty promise; he didn't really believe he would get any better. There was no point in upsetting Penny, though.

"Right. It could be cool though. We could be roomates! It would be awesome, wouldn't it?" her dreamy tone set a smile on Bucky's usually straight face.

"Yeah, it would. But what with Haley then? You got a cool rommate too" he looked at his computer screen, Penny's facebook page opened. "Speaking of uni people. Who's Marcus?"

"W-who? What Marcus...?" she asked nervously. "The one who's crosing his eyes on your profile picture. You know, red hair, light stuble, nerdy look-"

"Yeah yeah, I know, shut up" she bubbled for a minute, flustering. "He's a friend, we're friends. I met him trough Haley. We're friends" she reminded him.

"Friends? Is that how you kids call it nowdays?" he squinted closer to the screen, crosing his own eyes to take a better look on the kid.

"Gosh, you sound a lot like uncle George" she laughed. Bucky squealed an undignifying  sound, making her laugh even harder.

"I sound nothing like my father, thank you very much" he said in a huff. Like his father? Please.

Penny didn't say nothing, he realised once he hanged up. She was a total master in distracting. Bucky was %80 sure his cousin and Natasha were friends behind his back, and Penny was his friend pupil. His phone pinged.

> **Natty:** We're at mine. You better drag your sorry ass here and apologise to Clint. Besides, there's popcorn.

Oh yeah. Clint. He didn't call him to say he was sorry. "Is three days too long to apologise for being a dick, eh Winter?". The cat, being the helpful soul he was, licked a long stroke on his paw. "You're such a burden. I'm feeding you, the least you could do was help a bit" again, Winter didn't acknowledged him.

He tried avoiding his colorful t-shirts, he really did. The laundry was done (his uncle Mitch dropped two days before, and nearly beated the shit out of him whrn he saw his laundry basket) and he had a long sleeved plain brown shirt between his hands when a particular one caught his eye. A rainbow colored t-shirt with a message on the front (of course, why not?). _Let's kick your ass befor letting you kiss mine._

"You take it? Kick and kiss asses, 'couse your a badass gay guy" Clint had laughed when he gave it to him. It had been a joke-gift, days after Bucky told them he was gay. He knew Clint better. It was a way of telling him he would be by his side no matter of what. He accepted him in every way.

He had never wore it. It was embarrasing.

A strong pang of guilt went from his neck to the bottom of his spine. Clint was such a good guy, the best friend nobody could ask for. And there was him, treating him like trash. 

With a regretful sigh he drop his lovely brown shirt and took the other. Without thinking it to much, he wore it and looked at his reflection. He grimaced at the empty left sleeve. It was so wrong, everything. To much color, to less arm... Their friendship was worth it, though.

Winter eyed him jugdmentally. He clung onto his sweater.

"Oh, James, enter" Nat opened her apartament door and Bucky slumped next to her, panting. "You came running?" he didn't say nothing 'cause there was no point in denying it. It was pretty obvious he came racing, didn't take the sub or the elevator. Natasha sighed preocupied, but said nothing.

"Where's Clint?" he asked once his breath returned to his lungs. She pointed behind her to the lounge. Bucky nodded, preparing himself while he unzipped his sweater. It was to hot inside. 

"What the fuck is that?" Natasha bursted out laughing when she saw his t-shirt. Shit, he had forgotten about it. Tears collected in her eyes. "My god, you're a sap".

"Shut up" he whined like a five year old, and made his escape. 

Clint was on the sofa, beer in hand, watching some kind of documentary about whales. Bucky walked timidly, clinging onto his sweater for dear life. He took a seat besides him, sending a look at Nat when he sat in the other sofa. He crossed her legs, telling him she was going nowhere.

"Hi Barnes" Clint's voice came cold and serious, like he wasn't talking to his best friend.

"Clint..." his voice came out soft, shy. Nat had to supress a smile at the endearing sight. Not that Bucky saw her. Clint didn't even looked at him. "Clint..." he tried again. This time, the man looked at him with tired eyes.

"What?"

"... I'm sorry" Bucky held his gaze pitifully, feeling small and vulnerable. Clint said nothing, again, waiting for him. "I was such a prick, and I know you know it, but I didn't mean what I said".

"I know, but that doesn't make you less stupid".

"I know".

"I shouldn't forgive you, y'konw? It's not the first time this happens" Clint reminded him. Shame flew trhough his system, making his cheeks crimsom red. He nodded, unable of saying anything else. He listened Natasha moving behind him, but kept his gaze on his trousers, missing the look Clint gave the girl. "What?" Clint asked sudenly "No way..."

Clint went forward and sat on Bucky's lap, making him both uncomfortable and unable to move. His hands unzipped Bucky's sweater.

"O man! Oh, oh God, yes!" Clint's laugh filled the whole room. "Oh yeah, this is so sweet! You're gonna make-"

"Who wants a drink?" Natasha asked with a forceful smile, sending daggers to Clint. Bucky raised his hands, refusing to say nothing.

Nat stood up, but her phone went out, blasting loudly. Bucky winced at the sound.

"Yeah? Oh hi Sam!... Yes, I've got it... No, I'm not... Need it? Well, I'm at home, you could always come by... Yeah, I've got beer... Clint and Bucky are here, two friends, but it's okay... Perfect, see you in ten" she hung up and tossed the phone carelessly. "Sorry guys, Sam needs some papers I've got here. I told him to come. Hope it's okay with you".

"Nat, it's your home, you can invite whoever you want" Clint said snuggling Bucky's side. "Besides, it's Sam Wilson. I wanna met your famous friend".

"You're such a child". Both of them sared a funny look. Bucky looked at them suspiciously, but said nothing.

The bell ranged minutes later, announcing Sam's arrive. 

"Hey Sam, come inside- Oh! Hello, I didn't know you were coming" Nat's voice said.

"Yeah well, sorry, I hope it's okay?" said a deep voice; Sam's maybe? Natasha wellcomed him (them?) and footsteps were listened. 

"Come come! I'll introduce you, guys". A tall black handosme man entered the room, greeting them with a cheerful smile. An even taller and handomer blonde man followed him.

"Well guys, this is Sam" Natasha said, pointing at the black man. "And this" she said a little bit smugly "Is Steve" her eyes fixed with Bucky's.

Oh well, Bucky should really remind that Nat always had her way.

* * *

* * *

It was hot inside Nat's apartment, it made his shirt clung onto his torso. Any other would have been uncomfortable, but Steve was so used to tight clothes that it never bodered him. 

Nat welcomed and guided them to her lounge. There were two men there, a sandy haired rather short man called Clint, and a little bit taller (still, smaller than him, but who was taller than Steve?) brown haired man called James. Steve had a particularly hard time ignoring the guy's t-shirt. Who wored such a horrible t-shirt? His eyes needed to rest a bit.

"It's a pleasure" Sam shook his hand with Clint, and turned to James with a bright smile. "I feel like I know you two. Nat always tell us storys" She did? Steve didn't recall any of them. Sam offered his right hand to James. The guy looked unsure of what to do, like he hadn't had a hand-shake in his life. He finally raised his right hand to, offering it with an embarrased blush.

"It's nice to meet you two" he said, trying to clear the mood while Sam changed his hand uncomfortably. "I met you once, when you did that film 'bout the soldier" Steve felt the need of an eye-roll. 'You visited our division".

"You were on the 107th?" James guy nodded and Sam gave him a tight smile. "I heard what happened. I'm sorry".

Thing is, Steve had always been a curious kid. Since he learned to talk, he bored his mom to death with questions; and his curiosity never died. So, he wanted to ask. What happened? Why that made James twist his expression? Why everyone seemed so unsure suddenly? and, most important, what happened to James' left arm?!

He didn't ask, 'cause his mamma rised him well. And Nat's glare scared him to death. 

"Yeah well, show must go on" James smiled tightly. "It's nice to meet you too, Steve" James' hand (right, of course) was calloused, rough against his soft and tender hand. 

"Likewise"

"This is so cool" Nat said "It's the first time I've got all my true friends together".

"Your life is pretty sad if you only habe four true friends" Clint smiled tesingly at Natasha.

"Well, I've got more friends that someone, so my life is not the saddest" James gapped at his friend.

"Well, excuse me, but I've got a cat. My life is not sad" Steve watched at Sam, who saw their teasing with a delighted smile on his face. Steve felt bad for him. The hadn't a lot of friends, and it didn't particularly bother him, but Sam was a lot more people-person.

"Yeah yeah, cry me a river" James turned his mouth in a pout. It was an extrange expression on his face. The chin lenght hair and the three day stubblegave him a rough appearence, but that pout made his face a lot younger, sweeter even. "I'll go grab some beers".

Sam took a seat on a single chair, and Steve felt forced to do the same. He sat on another chair, leaving the love seat to Nat. 

They drank in a peacefully, and Steve let the chat to the others. He was usually loud and easy-going, but he didn't feel it that day. Sharon had called him, saying he had some of his things in her house. He went there, being polite and kind, but she wasn't having it. They had fought about everything, about every single damn thing Steve had done during their nine months. He didn't try getting along with her parents, he didn't try to spent holidays with her, he didn't, he didn't, he didn't... What he did was gain an awesome headache.

Days like this he missed his mother the most. He hadn't known his father, him dying when Steve was just a baby, but his mother was a whole other thing. She had been there for eighteen years, an immobable pillar in his life; and losing her had been losing that security, that light at the end of the road. He knew for sure that if Sarah would had been alive, he wouldn't have done a lot of things he did.

He was terrible at making choices.

"I can't believe you Nat" Clint cried taking Steve back to the reality "You said you had Tai for dinner!"

"I thought I had!" 

"Kids, kids, don't worry" Steve smiled at Sam. He had became friends with Clint pretty quickly; it looked like they knew each other for a time. James, on the other side, was quieter, sending glares to Natasha and frowning when she smiled at her. "We can go now and buy something. Watcha think?"

"It's cool for me. Let's go" Nat stood up and clapped her hands "Sam, Clint you coming? Steve and James can stay here, looking after the fort" James scowled her even harder; Steve thought his eyes were crosing slightly. "Steve, take Clint's seat, it's confier!" Nat shouted while exiting the house giggling with the others. 

"Liar bitch" James' words catched Steve by surprise.

"Sorry?"

"Eh? Oh, am, e... I don't like Tai food" James said with a hard blush on his cheeks. 

"Oh... Well, you should have said something" he said, unsure of what to say to him. "Do you wanna call them? I could-"

"No!" James nearly lifted from his seat. "No, it's okay. Let them buy what they want".

Steve wasn't much of a talker, but he hated unconfortable silences; and the silence between them was pretty uncomfortable. But what was he ment to say to James? 

"So... James, isn't it?" Okay Steve, he thought for himself, you're pretty lame. 

"Yes, but only Nat calls me that. It's Bucky for most of people".

"Bucky?" Steve asked. What kind of name was Bucky for a war veteran. For fuck's sake, could someone tell him what the fuck happened to that guy's arm? The curiosity was eating him alive.

"James Buchannan Barnes" Jam-Bucky said "My little sister didn't like James and Buchannan was short of dificult for her. So she started calling me Bucky, and it kind of stucked with me".

"That's cute. Do you mind if I sit there?" Bucky shook his head and Steve sat where Clint had sat before, in the same couch as Bucky. "My name is Steven Grant, buy my mother never liked it. She used to call me Steve".

"Why did she gave you Steven Grant, then?" Bucky stirred on his seat and sat sideways, looking directly at Steve's blue eyes. Bucky's where a paler blue, nearly gray. Steve liked them.

"Her father was Grant, and my dad's father Steven" he explained "They both died before I was born. It was kind of a tribute, I think. I prefer Steve too".

"Then Steve it is" Bucky smiled an awkward smile, making Steve a bit uncomfortable. 

Bucky was an obviusly nervous man. He sat on the couch trying to look all laid back, but the way he moved is eyes around the room, focusing on every corner every 2 minutes while trying to make a decent conversation with Steve blew his cover away. He moved his right hand to where his left forearm should be, and jolted it away like he suddenly realised he hadn't a left arm. It was strange.

Steve loved strange things.

"You know?" Natasha's voice startled them, floating behind them "It's awfully dificult to find Tai food around here. It's pizza okay?" she asked in a tone that made clear she didn't give a shit.

"More than okay" Steve said with a smile. "You don't have to suffer now" he smiled a little teasingly to Bucky, not knowing how to behave with him yet. Bucky gave him a strange look, like he didn't know what was Steve talking about.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah" he said unsure, blushing adorably.

Steve had always been atracted to beautiful people. It wasn't intended even, it just... happened. Every time he saw a gorgeous woman or a handsome man, his inner self  would be instantly interested in that person, pulling him towards them until they talked to him. Sometimes it wasn't even sexual (at first), his needs would be satisfied with a talk, with some smiles and light touches on the shoulder. Sometimes with a little flirting. Sometimes with sex.

Objectively Bucky was a handsome man. 

Steve laid on his bed tat night, thinking about everything, when his phone went on. His bedroom was dark, so the bright light of the screen hurt his eyes more than he thought it would. 

> **Natasha created a new groupchat.**

What the fuck? Steve looked at the contacts, the only ones he knew being Sam's and Natasha's. There were two new numbers. One was Clint's, obviously, it had a photo of him with a bow and an arrow. The other had a beautiful sunset. Steve thumbed the screen absently. It had to be Bucky's, right?

> **Unknown:** _Hey, it's Steve? I suppose it is, if not, let me know. Anyway, thanks for driving me home. Sweet of you. Thank you!_

Steve smiled at the screen and started writting an answer.

> **Unknown:** _It's Bucky, by the way._

He chuckled and sent his answer.


	3. Chapter 3

 

> **Bucky** _I don't know man. Both_ _shirts_ _are okay._

A frustrated sigh left Steve's lips. Why was that so dificut? He had just asked him to pick a shirt, not to pick the president, godamit!

 

> **Bucky** _I_ _haven't_ _gone out on a date for_ _years_ _, what did you_ _expect_ _?_

The response to his annoyed text made him smile. He knew Bucky ment to sound angry, but all he did was appear like a small whinny kid. He typed a fast joke.

 

> **Bucky** _I'm gonna stop_ _answering_ _you._

He even added a pouty emoji! Steve's body felt warm with fondness.

Three weeks had past since he first met Bucky, and they had been texting back and forth since the man sent him the first text. At first the texting had been awkward, but neither of them stopped it, and Steve was glad now. Bucky was so sweet, despite the first caverman impression. He hadn't asked about the arm and the army yet. 

Currently, Steve was trying to get Bucky to help him pick a perfect outfit for his first real date in a month (well, if you accept a friends meeting where there's this girl you wanna hook up with like a date), but it was a lost cause. He was more awkward than usually, sending Steve a lot of indignated answers that he read in a cute whinny voice.

Anyway, he picked the red long sleeved shirt. It made his biceps look bigger.

 

> **Bucky** _Fine,_ _whatever_ _, I don't even_ _care_ _what you_ _wear_ _for your date._

He started typing, calling him mean friend. Another text entered his phone.

 

> **Bucky** _And before you_ _text_ _back, 'cause you're_ _foreseeable_ _as fuck, I'm not a mean_ _friend_ _. Nat is mean. She would have told you to_ _stay_ _home_ _and_ _cut_ _your dick._

He couldn't help the laughter bubbling in his chest. He tried hiding it with a cough, but the few cast members around him glared Steve. He felt a faint blush on his cheeks. 

"What are you laughing at?" Nat's voice startled him from behind. He blocked his phone to avoid her curious gaze. "Are you texting Bucky?" she asked.

"Yeah" Natasha's grin took possession of her face.

"Oh yes? How it's that?" her fake calm and neutral tone made him cringe.

"He's helping me to pick a t-shirt for tonight. I've got a date" her grin flatered and a glare set on her eyes.

"A date? What kind of date? Who are you going to a date with?" 

"We're meeting at Red Room this night with some friends. It's Nancy Orswell" he named the star of a brand new tv serie and Nat's expression twisted.

"At a bar? With friends? Steve, you know that that's not a date, right? You're meeting up to get laid" Steve sighed. When would Natasha accept she wasn't his mom? She didn't have the right to say him what was wrong and what not. "Whatever, throw your life from a bridge, see if I care" she said childishly. Why where all his friends whinny kids?

"Nat..."

"What? You're talking to me?" she put a hand behind her ear and stood closer. "Sorry, I can't hear what I don't care about" her behaviour made him laugh. Steve hugged her with an arm and let her sigh again. "I worry 'bout you, Steve".

"I know, but you don't have to. I'm big enough to take care of myself"

"Tell me that when the police arrests you again" she snorted. Steve smiled 'cause, you know, she was right.

"Whatcha doing you guys tonight?"

"Well, Sam's busy with his family and his bringing Maria. Clint and I are going to a friends party" she answered. 

"And Bucky?"

"James in a party? You clearly don't know him very well" she smiled softly "Crowded dark place, loud sounds... He would freak out" she offered him a coffe from the machine and sat on a chair, glaring to a young looking boy who had made the mistake of telling her to shut up. Steve pitied him.

"Is that bad?" he asked. He knew (well, supose, since he hadn't ask Bucky nothing. It was still early, wasn't it?) Bucky had some issues because of the war, but didn't know how far they went.

"Some months ago, three or four, Bucky reached a year out of the army. He was okay, he was nearly the same he was before, and he felt exultant, so we thoguht 'bout going to a party to celebrate it" she sighed an rubbed her forehead, frowning slightly. "The first twenty minutes were good, or that's what we thought. I turned my back for five minutes, going for a drink, and the next thing I know her sister and I were dragging him out of the disco while Clint pushed aside everyone" her face darkened with guilt. "He was shivering nonstop, muttering pleads and crying to take him home. We had to give him pills when we arrived home. He didn't get out of his bed for three days, ashamed with himself".

Steve took a breath, his chest aching for the poor guy. "But now he's better, isn't him?" he asked hopefully.

"It depends of what you take like better" Natasha said "He's more stable now, he goes to therapy three times a week and tries to open himself; two months ago wouldn't have talked to you. But he exposes himself as little as possible, passes more of the time at home, and bottles up his emotions" she stopped talking and looked at Steve. "You can't say nothing to him. I haven't said nothing".

"Of course".

"Anyway, I feel guilty for leaving him alone tonight, but Clint has to go to this party, and Laura is away on a bussines trip" she explained  "I promised him I would go, but Bucky gets pretty depressed when he's alone, ironically. I hope I'll have time to pass by at some point" she said dreamingly, looking at Steve with a mischievous smile that Steve didn't see, busy thinking of Bucky.

His heart broke a little thinking about him, alone at home with his cat, looking at the tv screen with a pout and tears glimming on his eyes. Well, he knew Bucky wouldn't cry, but it was a pretty endearing show. He texted him.

 

> **Bucky:** _No, I'm not going. I'm not a big party guy here,_ _despite_ _my_ _looks_ _._

Steve smiled sweetely at the screen, ignoring Nat's look, and typed again. It looked like Bucky hadn't anything important to do, 'cause his responses were fast. The thought of Bucky sitting on his couch doing nothing but typing broke Steve's heart again.

 

> **Bucky:** _What? Are you_ _mad_ _? Why would you come here? Tell Natasha I don't_ _need_ _a_ _babysitter_ _._ _Go_ _fuck with your date and_ _leave_ _me_ _alone_ _._

Steve thumbed the screen unsure. The text could have been playful, it wouldn't have been the first time Bucky pretended to be upset by something Steve said; but something told Steve that it wasn't fake this time. He thought he had hurt Bucky's feelings for the first time in nearly a month. The confirmation came when the double blue ticks told him that Bucky had read his text and ignored it.

"Why are you pouting, hm?" this time he managed to lock his screen before Nat looked at it. 

"Tony" he lied "He's calling me mean names because I told him he sucks at singing" it was half lie. He had told Tony he sucked at singing. Tony singing was too bad. Steve knew; he had suffered it.

Natasha nodded, clearly not buying it, but didn't call on his bullshit.

Five hour later Steve stood in front of his bedroom mirror, checking himself out for the third time. The pants were fitting, the t-shir hugged his torso perfectly, the boots were comfy and his brown leather jacket gave him a bad boy looking while his face showed the so perfect All-American boy. 

He nearly took a photo of him to send to Bucky.

He sighed and checked his phone again, before putting it on his pocket. Bucky still hadn't answered to his text, hadn't said nothing at all. Steve pouted partly. Well, if he didn't want to talk to him, he wouldn't talk to Bucky either. 

He took his keys and the wallet and winked an eye to himself on another mirror. He knew he was hot. He knew that outfit would work; it had done before (the week before, to be precise).

Nancy looked gorgeous, with black trousers and electric blue blouse; Steve felt his body warming up at the mere sight. 

"Hey man! About time!" Thor clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder with a big smile. "I asked you a beer. How have you been? I haven't heard of you for so long!". Steve knew that was a lie, he had had heard of his break-up, but Thor was polite. Incredibly polite.

"Well, not much" he made eye contact with Nancy and smiled. Loki, Thor's little brther, scoffed slightly, but Steve didn't pay attention. "I'm bussy filming now, so that's good" he smirked when Nancy smiled at him and looked at Thor. "What about you? Have I heard something about a marriage?"

Jane, who had been bussy chatting with her friend Darcy, perked and smiled broadly. "Look at this Rogers" she said shaking her hand "The hottest guy on the Earth gave me this!"

"What?" he laughed "When did I gave you that ring?" Jane bursted out laughing.

"You're incorrigible Steve" she said shaking her head. He let out what Sam called the Toothpaste Commercial Smile. He winked at Nancy.

"I'm gonna get drunk" Loki said "Please, continue with your vain conversation".

Steve looked at Loki's back marching to the bar. "Don't worry, he's been cranky all day" Nancy responded to his confusion, sliding next to him. 

"Yes? Well, let him be, he has always been pretty cranky" Nancy laughed adorably and nodded her head. "How is the serie- Sorry" his phone bipped loudly.

 

> **Natasha:** _Have you told James_ _something_ _about what_ _we_ _spoke_ _?_ _He's_ _being_ _pretty_ _bitter_ _with me_ _right_ _know._

Steve's breath hitched lightly.

"Everything ok?" Nancy asked concerned. Steve nodded and typed rapidly. 

"Yes sorry" he left the phone on the table "It's a friend, she's- Sorry again"

 

> **Natasha:** _I don't know why_ _he's_ _angry then._  

He typed again, telling her he had no idea and locked the screen again.

"Sorry. She's concerned about a friend in common. He's been trough a pretty bad time now" he half lied.

"Oh don't worry" Nancy's hand rested on his forearm and smiled "It's sweet how you care about your friend".

"Yes, all we want is- For God's sake!" Nancy's smile flattered a little.

 

> **Natasha:** _I_ _wish_ _I could_ _pass_ _by. I don't want him to be_ _upset_ _. I'm_ _kind_ _of_ _drunk_ _, and I want to_ _hug_ _him when I'm_ _drunk_ _._

Why was she texting him? Wasn't she at a party? He offered Nancy a sorry smile.

 

> **Natasha:** _Yes_ _, I'm in a party, but_ _Clint's_ _boss_ _intercepted_ _us, and_ _he's_ _boring_ _as fuck._

He would have laugh at her situation if she wouldn't have been harasing his. He replied a short text, telling her he didn't know what was up with Bucky and to leave him alone. He was on a date.

"Finished. I'm sorry, really" he gaved Nancy another apologetic smile. "She won't bother me more". The girl smile pleased and scooted (even) closer to him.

"That's good" her hand rested now on his thigh. "I was looking forward to meet you again, Steve".

The flirting went on for good ten minutes where Loki had returned and scowled at Steve and Jane, Darcy and Thor had ignored them with their own conversation. Usually that would have been enough for Steve to make a move and invite her to a drink at the bar, far from the others, in a more intimate bubble. Something felt off.

He found himself looking guiltily at the phone for ten minutes, and a relieved sigh escaped him when his phone bibrated again. 

 

> **Natasha** _He's_ _so lame_ _right_ _now, I_ _wanna_ _cry_ _. And you're a_ _bitch_ _, you told him_ _something_ _._

She sent him a screen capture of her conversation with Bucky.

 

> **James** _Nat_ _leave_ _me_ _alone_ _, I'm_ _bussy_ _._
> 
> _How being_ _alone_ _at_ _home_ _means_ _being_ _bussy_ _?_
> 
> **James** _I told Steve I don't_ _need_ _a_ _babysitter_ _and I don't._ _Leave_ _me the fuck_ _alone_ _._
> 
> _Steve? What did that_ _idiot_ _told you?_
> 
> **James** _Nothing_ _, I don't_ _wanna_ _talk about him._
> 
> _Oh,_ _c'mon_ _, I'm bored with Clint and his boss._ _Entertain_ _me._
> 
> **James** _Nat I'm_ _trying_ _to make me_ _dinner_ _. You know how_ _difficult_ _is to cook with_ _one_ _hand? You don't. I'm this_ _close_ _to_ _go_ _to bed and_ _cry_ _all night. So_ _Leave_ _-Me-The-Fuck-_ _Alone_ _._
> 
> _James..._

The conversation stopped there, and Steve looked at the screen more guiltily.

 

> **Natasha:** _You_ _seem_ _to_ _enjoy_ _letting_ _me down. Sharon first, now Bucky... You're_ _incredible_ _. I hope he isn't truly upset with us. He_ _won't_ _talk to us for_ _days_.

He bit his lip, guilt crepting through him. He knew she didn't mean everything she said, but it wasn't that what made him guilty. No, it was the thought of Bucky upset and crying at home. That made him guilty.

"Steve?" he stood up, not glancing at Nancy (it made him more guilty) and put some money on the table.

"Sorry, I gotta go".

* * *

* * *

> **Steve:** _Are you still at home?_

Bucky looked at his phone with a raisen brow. Still? Was that some kind of drunken joke? Was Steve texting him drunk? That was a whole new level on lame scale.

 

> **Steve:** _Bucky? I know you're_ _reading_ _me._

"Smartass" he murmured, making a face to the phone. He typed a short afirmation and left the dispositive on the table.

The phone bipped again, but Bucky made no effort of picking it. Instead of that, he walked to his kitchen again, determined to give him a King's dinner (it consisted of a sad sad french omellete with some fries, a cold beer and some cheese sauce, if he felt capable of doing it). He took the wooden spatula in his hand and faced the stove, ready for fight.

It had been nearly a year and a half since he returned to the States, with an arm less and a lot of psychological issues. When he was at the hospital, high from the drugs they gave him to mitigate the pain, Dr. Reeds had told him that the physical recovery would be easier than the psychological. You know what? Fuck you Dr. Reeds. When he went to the first psychologist he had seen him so depressed, and order him a long list (believe him when he says it was a long list) of antidepressants, and he had passed his first five months on ninth cloud, flying heavily through his life, not knowing where he was or who were they parents. He dreamed about blood, about death, about missing arms... It was imposible going to physical therapy when he didn't even know how to put a t-shirt on. The he met Dr. Bruce Banner.

Dr. Banner was a private psychologist who worked with violated women or abused kids, trying to reverse their trauma. Natasha had met him one friday night two months ago, and when everyone saw that Bucky's situation was unsustainable, she and Bucky's parents begged him to accept Bucky. He still considered, a year after, Bruce like a some sort of divine miracle. 

Yeah, he couldn't watch war films without getting nightmares at night, he still suffered panick atacks when there was a particular loud sound and he couldn't stand the darkness. But he could stand people now, he could talk about his war period without getting blocked or crying; he could look at his stump and no feel the need of riping it off of him. What he couldn't do for sure was cope to do things with an only arm 'cause he had to postpone his therapy 6 months because of the medication.

So yeah, fuck you Dr. Reeds.

"This shouldn't be difficult, should it be?" he asked to no-one throwing the pan on to the sink. "No it shouldn't" he gazed the plate, a white ceramic object with a very burned looking omellete broken into pieces. With a sigh he left the kitchen, leaving the omellete there and taking the phone.

 

> **Steve:** _You up for some film? I'm bored._
> 
> **Steve:** _I could take some_ _food_ _if you want. I_ _haven't_ _have_ _dinner_ _._
> 
> **Steve:** _Date was_ _bad_ _. I would rather use some_ _company_ _right_ _now._
> 
> **Steve:** _We_ _could_ _see_ _a_ _tv_ _show_ _too_ _. I_ _haven't_ _seen_ _Eyewitness_ _, and Sam_ _says_ _it's good._
> 
> **Steve:** _You didn't like_ _Tai_ _, did you?_
> 
> **Steve:** _Bucky_ _answer_ _or_ _I'll_ _take_ _Tai_ _and_ _you'll_ _have to_ _eat_ _it or_ _see_ _me_ _eat_ _it all._
> 
> **Steve:** _Bucky_ _answer_ _me, I'm_ _sending_ _so much_ _messages_ _._

Excuse you? Bucky nearly threw his phone to the wall. He didn't want Steve there, even if he could use the food. He didn't want him there for so many reasons, his apartment was a mess, Winter didn't like strangers, he was angry with Steve and something told him that Steve had just screwed his date to give him company 'cause Natasha couldn't keep her mouth shut. Everything was peachy, he thought ironically while writening.

 

> **Steve:** _C'mon_ _man, I'm nearly_ _arriving_ _with some_ _Chinesse_ _food_ _. It's from a very_ _cool_ _dinner_ _. You can not accept._

Couldn't he accept a no like an answer?

 

> **Steve:** _No I don't._ _C'mon_ _Buck_ _, I'm in the elevator. You_ _can't_ _say no to me._
> 
> **Steve:** _A_ _neighbourgh_ _opened me. I had to_ _sign_ _a_ _paper_ _for her_ _nephew_ _._
> 
> **Steve:** _Told her I'm_ _visiting_ _a_ _cousin_ _, didn't know if you want them to know I know you._

"Whoa, a little bit full of ourselves, aren't we, Rogers?" he asked the phone, sensing Winter run besides him. He actually didn't believe the man when he said he was in the elevator, so he jumped out of his skin when someone rang the bell.

"Bucky? It's me, Steve" he gaped at the door, his expression turning into a frown. What the hell was that kid's problem?

He didn't respond, and the knocking got insistent.

"C'mon Buck, you can't leave me here" Steve's deep velvet voice said "I've bring food!"

"Go away Steve, I wanna be alone". It wasn't particularly true. He was having a good day, a bright mood fogged only by his unuseful physic condition, but that was nothing new, so yeah, he was having a good day. But that didn't mean he could stand Steve's company right now.

"C'mon Bucky, I'm getting cold here, don't leave me hanging please".

He said nothing.

"I can yell until you open the door Barnes".

Still, nothing.

"I've got food" Bucky groaned. From his spot beside the door (he didn't know when he had arrived there) he could see Winter eating his omellete. Good, even his cat was against him.

"Fucking traitor... Can you even eat eggs?"

"Bucky I'm sorry" Steve said, and Bucky stopped paying atention to the cat. "I really am. I know you're angry for what I said, but I can't change that. I wish...". Bucky sighed softly and called himself idiot. He opened the door harsly. 

"You're an ass".

"I know".

"I don't need a babysitter"

"I know".

"I'm gonna eat more than a half of the food".

"That's ok" Steve smiled brightly, that Hollywood smile the magazines loved so much.

"Good. Come in" Bucky opened the door and ley Steve pass. He motined him to give the jacket over, he was a good host after all, thank you very much.

"Your place is great" Steve said after a quick (there was nothing much to see anyway) where Bucky had conveniently forgot the kitchen (there was no way he was letting Steve see such a mess). "But I thought you had a cat?".

"What, Winter? He's not my cat, he's a little fluffy burn who lives with me for food" he said fondly "Sit there and open the food. I'm gonna get him" Steve wasn't entering his kitchen.

Winter was, indeed, in the kitchen, sitting confortably on the counter beside an empty plate. He was licking his paw peacefully, but he lifted his blac head when he listened Bucky. He purred, like always when he was full.

"What Soldier, you done eating muy food?" He scratched the back of the cat's ear and the animal meowed softly. "You're a pretty kitten aren't you?" He took the cat in his hands and hugged hin to his chest.

He walked into the living room to find Steve politely sitting on the edge of his sofa, the Chinese take away food boxes on the small coffe table, neatly standing one beside the other. His biceps where bulging out of the t-shirt. Bucky simled at him motioning to the cat between his arms.

"This is Winter Soldier" he said droping the animal ceremoniously on the carpet. Steve arched an eyebrow to him, silently snickering to the name "Shut up, I'm a big fan of Captain America, what can I say? Besides, you're not forgiven still, be good" Bucky pointed at him with a single finger and Steve shuted up, smiling brightly at the cat.

"Hey Winter" he hold out his hand and the cat sniffled it quietly, only to turn his back to Steve and walk away silently. Bucky and Steve both stared at each other for a second before Bucky bursted out laughing.

"That's what happens when you upset his roomy".

"You call your cat your roomy?" Steve stretched his hand to take one of the boxes, but Bucky swated it away.

"Hold on, I've not decided what I wanna eat" he opened the boxes ignoring the best he could Steve's pouty face.

"But I really like those noddles..." Steve said in a whinny voice wich made Bucky laugh fondly. "Anyway, you take care of him, take him to the vet and give him food, no?" Bucky nodded absent-mindedly, deciding between Steve's noodles or the chiken rice. "You know that's what the owners do, no? Hey, those are mine...".

"You're insulting me in my own home and you expect me to let you the noodles? You don't know me my friend..." he took some noodles with the chopstick, the box secure between his knees. Steve made a little dissapointed sound at the back of his throat and took the rice.

Bucky drank in the sight for a bit. He hadn't seen Steve that much since meeting him at Nat's, but they had been togheter for a couple of times more, so it wasn't strange for Bucky to feel atracted to the man. Physically Steve was a monument, with brad chest, long legs, tiny waist and gorgeous face; he wasn't ashamed of looking at him. But some part of him told him it was different.

They had been talking for months now, nearly since the day they met. At first Bucky was nervous, he didn't like talking to people, and Steve's fame was of a dick; but he had proved diferent. He was kind, and funny, and a huge dork, who had ditched his date to keep Bucky company.

But, in top of that, he was gonna eat the chiken rice instead of his well loved noodles just because Bucky wanted to eat them. It was endearing. He must feel pretty bad.

He sighed and took his last noodles, smirking at Steve's miserable face. "Here, take'em" he pushed the box towards the blonde, laughing quietly when the man's face broke up in a smile.

"My noodles!" he said in a tiny sing-song voice. He groaned at the first bit "God, they're so good".

"I know" Bucky winked timidly at Steve, and dropped his gaze once their eyes met. 

They ate at a peacefully silence with the tv playing softly until Steve broke it with and awkward coughing.

"What hap-" he seemed to rethink what he was gonna ask 'cause his face turned a bright shade of red and shook his head. "Nothing nothing, sorry, I was thinking out loud, I don-"

"A bomb" Bucky answered absently, chewing on his chiken. "We where on a mission and our car got hit by the enemy. We tried escaping, so the bomb didn't hit us, but it's force was enouch to send me flying" he looked ahead, thoughtful "I don't remember anything of it. The next I know I was in a campain hospital waiting for a helicopter to bring me home. And I didn't have an arm"

"I'm sorry..." Bucky sent him an unimpresed look. Everybody said the same. What were they sorry for? They didn't rip his arm, did they? It drove him insane. His annoyance must showed of on his face, 'cause Steve kept talking. "I mean, it wasn't my fault, obviously, but still. I'm sorry it happened to you. I imagine you're sick-"

"Steve, is okay" Bucky cut him, tired of the Arm-Theme "I'm sick of everybody talking about it. I just wanna forget it happened" Steve nodded understanding. 

"I won't talk about it if you don't wanna, but if, you know, need to talk to someone sometime, I'm here" Steve's cheeks turned pink and Bucky smiled softly. "I mean, I know you'll talk to Nat, who doesn't, but still. I'm here" Steve's right hand squeezed Buckys left thigh. Both of them looked at the hand, blushing like teenagers, but none of them made a move. 

Steve's blue eyes were intense when they looked at each other. Bucky's breath hitched on his throat. There was no way of misunderstunding the situation, and panic flew. 

Sweat run down his back, and his body started trembling lightly. When had it been the last time he was this intimate with someone? Nat and Clint's touches were different. They were friendly, and usually lasted about 5 seconds at most; they knew how unconfortable Bucky was with human touch. Steve didn't, or maybe did, but he was as frozen in place as Bucky was.

Busy gazing at each other and blushing, none of them saw Winter climbing the sofa.

"Au!" Steve's pain exclamation broke the magic, and Bucky looked around for a bit, disoriented, until his eyes set on Steve's forearm. Winter hooked there, with his little hoofs sticking to the flesh.

"Winter!" Bucky took the animal, lifting and taking it away from Steve. "What are you doing? What were you thinking? God, cat!"

"Don't think he'll answer Buck" Bucky scowled at Steve, who didn't look to much affected by the fact that his cat had just attacked him. The animal sat on the floor, licking his paw. Again.

"I know, but still. I'm sorry, he doesn't usually, you know, climb people".

"Don't worry" Steve laughed a bit and his cheeks colored again "Guess he doesn't like sharing you" he pointed at Winter, who had come to sit on Bucky's feet and glared at Steve. Bucky made a strangle sound. "It's okay Buck, really. It's a scratch".

"What's up with the Buck thing?" Bucky asked out of the blue. He couldn't help it. He had been wondering since the text. Steve blushed deeper, if that was posible.

"Oh, that well, it's... I don't know really. I liked it. It's cute" he looked at his feet and mumbled. "I can quit it if you don't like it".

"No, it's good, I like it too" Bucky said. The embarrassment and the discomfort were to big. "I'm gonna get the aid-kit. Better clean the scratch".

He stayed in the bathroom for five good minutes, claiming he didn't know where Nat had put the kit and turning down Steve's help offers. He looked at himself in the mirror, flushed and trembling. There was no reason to be like that, nervous and expectant. Steve was straight (or so he thought). Whatever happened there, it was nothing.

He took three deep breathes and exited the bathroom.

"Can you believe it? It was under-" he cut himself at the door, looking at Steve. He and Winter, who had sat down on Bucky's spot with his tail curled around himself, were having a stare competition. Bucky wasn't sure of who was winning. Neither of them had listened to him.

"You know Winter" Steve said slowly to the cat, the animal looking at him with a scowl on his face. "I understand you wanna keep him to himself. And I respect you" Bucky huffed a laugh. "But you gotta respect me too buddy, 'cause I'm gonna be around him for a lot time. If he wants" Bucky's heart twisted at the words (some stupid words muttered to a cat). "So, whatcha think, can we be friends?" Steve took out his hand to Winter, who sniffed it and turned around, leaving a very confused looking Steve on the couch.

Bucky smiled, heart full and hammering, nerves %100. He turned around and waited, giving Steve time to get over the cat's indifference. Steve, who had ditched a date for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't have time to correct the chapter, so sorry for the uncorrected mistakes. 
> 
> Enjoy the update!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy the story and if there's any grammar mistake, feel free to point it out!
> 
> Thanks! xx


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